The Love of the Triforce
by schally
Summary: AU. Blends elements of all games. In spite of their differences, the Guardians of the Triforce must work together to free the Triforce from Gannon's clutches. A more realistic (and hopefully spicier) take on the L/Z relationship.
1. Prologue

**The Legend of Zelda: Love of the Triforce**

**Disclaimer**:  Okay, folks, here's the deal.  Alternate universe fic of sorts with all the worlds of all the Zelda games meshed into one—the games really leave some of the personalities open for interpretation, Link's especially, so I'm going with it.  No original characters here but I had to invent names for a few of the NCPs.  You'll have to forgive me for my atrocious naming skills and pray that I never have children.  Otherwise, enjoy.  Comments are appreciated, welcome, and slobbered upon.  Reviews, regardless of flavor, encourage me to be SPICY.

Prologue 

                He was standing on the edge of the precipice as the faerie Navi hovered just over his right shoulder, casting a glow across his tanned face.  The breeze stirred his hair and the earrings that studded his Hyllian ears jingled.  He was beautiful, then, as an angel might be—the muscles of his thighs firmly knit under his tights, the rolling of smooth, tawny skin under his tunic—and as his bright blue eyes stared out into the darkness like a hawk.

Zelda thought she might hate him.

                She might hate him more than Gannon and more than anything.

                "Link!" she said, and her voice was severing, a single white-hot blade in the stillness of the place.  He turned and looked at her, his blond brow straight, his mouth a perfect cupid's bow of reproach.  Nayru, he was really something, wasn't he?  "Quit gawking.  Get up there and lower a rope."

                He bowed his head once.  Whenever she was short with him he had a childlike confusion about it, and with that, a sort of perturbation.  There was frustration there and she was glad.  If she hated him, then maybe he would hate her more, and he would become a thing she didn't want instead of this thing she couldn't have.  

                Zelda watched him as she nimbly scaled the edge of the wall, and after disappearing for a moment, reappeared above, tossing down a rope.  As she grabbed the end of it Zelda looked up into those eyes, bright even from this distance, and wished they'd never met.


	2. Chapter 1

**The Legend of Zelda: Love of the Triforce**__

Chapter One 

                Link lifted the end of the raft, beads of sweat running down his neck and across his arms to dot the faded red paint that ran along its wooden sides.  Diamo, Kakariko's greatest bug catcher, was on the other side, navigating the raft to avoid the rocky outcroppings along the river.  Link wavered only slightly against the wooden bulk as they lifted it across the bank.  Diamo gave a grunt and both dropped the raft into the river, resulting in a wide spray of cold water.  The raft immediately began to move with the current, issuing a subtle ripple in the waters as it crept along.

                "Dammit!" Diamo roared, tripping across the bank in an attempt to keep the boat from floating away.  "Who steals an anchor, huh?  Who steals an anchor?"  Though Diamo had a knack for misplacing things—namely his bug catching net—he swore up and down that the anchor for their raft had been stolen.  Anchorless, the raft had drifted down the river and into Zora territory, remarkably staying intact in spite of being unmanned in the Zora rapids.  The raft was a sort of treasure between the two, the both of them having spent weeks hunting materials and assembling it, and there'd been no question of whether they were going to look for it or not.  It had taken a bit of doing to find it, as neither of them was particularly adept at traversing the unfamiliar wetlands that bordered Zora territory.

Diamo was still sore about it.

                Link shrugged lightly and stretched out on the grass.

                "It had to be that damn hobo," Diamo continued, still positive that anchor thievery was to blame for their plight.  He grabbed the oar in one hand while still holding onto the wobbling raft.  "What exactly do you think you're doing?" Diamo asked as he wrenched the raft to the bank.  Link looked over at him innocently, one arm resting his head in its crook while the other stretched out to coax a nearby caterpillar.

                "I'm sensing a lack of Farore, Link.  Don't tell me you're tired."

                "You made me drag it in," Link said.  He had coaxed the caterpillar towards him and was attempting to feed it a blade of grass.  The caterpillar displayed a pair of bright purple antennae and enthusiastically latched onto the offering.  Link scratched at the triangle mark on his hand.

                "But you're _Kokiri_, Link," Diamo was saying, as if that explained everything.  "You're special and all.  And we've got to get back in time for the tournament.  I'll oar first if it'll keep you from crying about it."

                Link had explained to Diamo, time and time again, that he wasn't a Kokiri—he was Hyllian, he just happened to have grown up in the Kokiri Forest—but he didn't bother arguing.  He simply nodded, repressing the urge to roll his eyes, and stepped onto the raft, abandoning the caterpillar and knowing full well that he would end up doing most of the paddling.         

                "Maybe we'll meet some Zoras," Diamo said.

"I hope not."

"Think of the possibilities.  What if I could get my hands on a pair of Zora flippers?  We'd both be rich.  If we meet any, just leave the talking to me.  I can handle these fish people."

                Diamo settled down on the raft and pushed off from the bank, paddling furiously to compensate for the steady current.  True to his suspicions, Link ended up taking over when Diamo began puffing for breath.  His counterpart opted to take the helm, shouting directions and the occasional misdirection.  Before long the scenery began to change from the tranquil blues to the usual greens, the gently curving crystals and assorted corals gradually being replaced by trees.  Diamo announced, with a certain disappointment, that this marked the border of Zora territory.  

                "No Zoras, huh," he mused.  "Well, we're not out of it yet."  It was as if he'd made some sort of cue.  Link tugged on his sleeve and motioned to a smooth orange fin that was circling on the far side of the raft.  Diamo leaned forward, peering into the turbulent water, and a projectile lobbed at him.  He threw himself to the bottom of the raft with a curse of "Naryu!" and Link was suddenly tensed, oar raised.

                There was an enormous splash as a total of four Zoras emerged from the water, foam dripping from their silvery bodies.  The one in the center had larger fins that the others—he was, no doubt, the leader—and he opened his gills, extinguishing a flay of droplets and foam.

                "Tressspasss," he said, his large fish-eyes glaring at them.  "Been watchhhing."

                "Terribly sorry," Diamo began, his eyes flicking from one Zora to the next.  "We just came to get our raft, which got away from us and—erm—say, you wouldn't happen to have anything to barter with, say, flippers or—"  

Link shot a glance at Diamo and, at that moment, there was the distinct sound of a blade being unsheathed.

                Diamo looked taken aback.  "Since when do they have swords?" he hissed to Link, and then louder, "Ah, I see.  Well, maybe another time, then."

                The quartet of armed Zoras advanced, drawing clear, stainless swords from barnacle-encrusted sheaths.  The head Zora hissed menacingly, his head-fins splaying out in a colorful display that Link might have liked to inspect, had the situation been different.  Diamo stepped back instinctively.

                Link frantically searched the bottom of the raft and, out of desperation, pulled out a long fishing pole and pointed it at the head Zora, fencing style.

                "What're you gonna do, catch him?" Diamo asked incredulously.  "Back paddle!"  He had already begun frantically paddling with his hands.  Link followed suit, digging into the water with the oar and forcing the raft onto a path that ran directly with the current.  It did little good, however, as the Zoras, skilled swimmers that they were, simply dove beneath the waves after them.

                "Link!  Alternate course!"  Diamo yelled, pointing towards a gully that spread off to the side.  Link plunged the oar into the water with enough force to edge the raft off of the main river.  The Zoras followed for a short distance, then stopped, rising above the water to watch their prey with glistening eyes.  Link continued to paddle furiously, reasoning that there was no such thing as too much distance between himself and the Zoras.

                "Whooo!  A stroke of genius!"  Diamo said.  "I guess they know better than to waste their time chasing after such a brilliant mind.  Ha!"  He turned away from the Zoras to look ahead and his jaw dropped as he realized the reason the fish-men hadn't followed them.  "Oh, Nayru!"  

                The raft promptly dropped off the edge of the waterfall in a spray of foam.

*              *              *

                "Aggh."  Diamo opened his eyes, flinching against the brightness of the sun.  As his vision cleared, he could see Link leaning over him, blonde hair rumpled and wet, blue eyes wide with concern.

                "Link, you're a real princess," Diamo said.

                Link balked.  "I am not," he managed, taken aback.

                "Yeah, right.  All you need is a pretty pink dress to go with those golden locks."  Diamo spat out a bit of river water and flopped over on his side, allowing the sun to warm his wet body.

                "Glad t'see everybody's okay," Link muttered darkly.

                "The raft?"

                "Pieces."

                Diamo lifted his hand limply.  "We were this close," he said, holding his fingers an inch apart.

                Link nodded.

                "Since when do they have swords?"

                Link shrugged.

                "Why didn't anyone warn us about that?" Diamo mused.

                Link started to say something, then stopped.  He lay in the grass next to his friend and gave a long, gusty sigh as he absently scratched at the triangular birthmark on his hand.  He and Diamo had been friends ever since Link had first moved to Kakariko.  Diamo had been sick and his mother had asked Link to travel to the Lost Woods to find a magic mushroom.  Link had no problems getting the mushroom, since he had just moved from his home in Kokiri village, and he took the mushroom to a local witch to get a magic potion to cure Diamo's illness.  Diamo's mother had never forgotten the favor and the two boys wound up becoming friends.  They were like brothers, really—they both got each other in trouble and each got on the other's nerves.

                "Oh, don't worry," Diamo said.  "We aren't out of luck just yet.  I hear that the Gorons have this magical bomb..."  There were other ways to earn a living—when they weren't attempting one of Diamo's money-making schemes, the pair shared an easy job as runners and deliveries for Hyrule's mask shop.  It was there that they inevitably ended up whenever Diamo's plans fell through, and as a natural regression to their usual failure, they made their way towards Hyrule City.  Diamo talked about this  "magical bomb" the entire way, across the stone bridge at Kakariko and across the rolling green tundra of the Field, clomping across Hyrule City's massive drawbridge and across the cobblestones that lined the walks.   Then, ten paces from the mask shop, he remembered that it wasn't a magical _bomb—it was a magical _hammer_.  He then proceeded to discuss the profits and necessity of such a thing.  What if the Gerudo were to attack Lon Lon and they had to save Malon?  Or what if the Gerudo were to attack the mask shop or Dampe's house on the edge of Kakariko?  Link listened patiently as he always did._

                The shopkeeper rolled his eyes, being as used to such talk and much less tolerant of it.  "That's great, Diamo.  Get rich quick, will ya?  Then you can share some of it with the rest of us."

                "Wait."

                "Yeah, yeah.  Next thing I know you'll be trying to net gold bees.  Well, while you're waiting for your fortune to emerge, take this to your friend up at Lon Lon."  He handed a brown sack to Diamo who, upon receipt, immediately opened it.  "Talon thinks it'll scare away the Tektites."

                "This old thing?"  Diamo shrugged.  "Whatever.  I dunno if anyone told you, but Link's decided to start charging a five percent handling fee."

                Link shot Diamo a dirty look, but the shopkeeper wasn't so easily taken.

                "Handling fee?"  The shopkeeper gave him a swift rap on the head with one of the smaller masks.  "I give you discounts on supplies for all of your get-rich schemes.  I let Link live in the apartment behind my store.  That's your handling fee!"

                "Alright, alright."  Diamo sidestepped to avoid another rap on the skull.  The pair scuttled outside, only to find the courtyard thick with people.

                Diamo poked a tall man standing near them.  "Hey, what's all this?"                         

                "Rumor has it that the princess is going to meet with the Gorons," the man said.

                "I heard it was the Zoras," the woman next to him said.  

Regardless, it was an ordeal.  Zelda didn't leave the castle often—being the only member of the royal family left, it just wasn't safe—and when she did venture out, always on political business, it never failed to generate an enormous crowd that filled most of the space between the castle gates and the drawbridge at the entrance of the city.

                "Wanna watch?" Diamo asked.  Link nodded and the two navigated the back of the crowd, searching for an opening.  When their search proved fruitless, they climbed the lookout tower and scurried onto a nearby roof.  The vantage point was excellent from  here; Zelda's entourage would pass almost directly under them.  Diamo sprawled out on the roof, his feet dangling off the edge, while Link knelt there, one knee bent.  He thought it inappropriate to just _lay_ there while Hyrule's princess went by, even if he was too far up for her to notice.

                "If she's going to see the Zora… man, let's just hope she had better luck than we did."

                "Well, she wouldn't be stealing from them, so—"

                "Borrowing, Link.  _Borrowing_.  And they didn't even let me explain my idea.  Their loss, you know."  Diamo swung his feet.  "I haven't seen Zelda since I was a kid.  I wonder how she turned out.  She's supposed to be beautiful, but it's not like anyone would admit it if she was ugly or anything."

                "What did she look like then?"

                "Verrry Hyllian.  Her ears were almost as huge as yours."  Diamo propped himself up on an elbow.  "That's right, you've never seen her.  Well, it was the King's funeral, so she was surrounded by priests and stuff.  She was kinda hard to see, she looked okay, though.  I'll bet _she_ is a real lady, though, unlike someone we know.  Ahem.  Malon."  Diamo and Malon argued a lot about how girls should and shouldn't act.

                The crowd began to quiet and both boys looked up at the entourage of white horses that came out of the castle, walking two by two.  These horses were mounted by soldiers, and when the princess finally emerged, she was surrounded on all sides by a octet of armed mounts.  

                "Good thing we climbed up here," Diamo said.  "Those guys on the ground won't even be able to see her."  Both he and Link leaned over the roof as far as they could.  The guard nearest them was a tall, statuesque woman who obscured their view of the princess considerably, but maybe when she got closer…

                The crowd was beginning to press forward with excitement, and several of the guards broke formation to urge them back.  The tall woman didn't budge from the princess' side, but the sudden lax in the formation allowed for a better view.  Link and Diamo both craned their necks, but Diamo was the first to see her.

                "Wow," he said.

                Link leaned forward and saw what the "wow" was for.  The princess was, true to Diamo's assertion, very Hyllian.  She had the trademark pointed ears and a long mane of golden hair, which had been loosely braided down her back.  Her complexion was fine, her eyes were large and blue, and she was very princessly in every regard except her attire.  The armor she wore was of a special make, different from what the soldiers were wearing, and if he squinted, Link could see that Hyllian runes had been carved along the sides.  An impressive bow was slung across her shoulder and at her hip hung a short sword.  The armor wasn't just for show—Link could tell by the way the light reflected differently off of dented areas that it had been put to use at one time or another—even the best polishing job couldn't smooth away wear.

                "It's hard to tell which one's the princess and which one's the bodyguard," Diamo said.  "I wonder if that's the idea?  You think she knows how to use all that?"

                Link didn't answer.  The princess was nearly underneath them, now, and more of the guards were fanning out to keep back the crowd.  Zelda waved at the crowd, all of whom waved and yelled back, but it was a distracted gesture, as if she wasn't used to dealing with this many people and wasn't quite sure how to act.  

                Link didn't know why, and wouldn't for some time, but he suddenly felt a tremor run through his body.  A cold, sinking feeling clenched his gut and he knew suddenly, imperceptibly, that Zelda was in danger and she was in danger _now_.  The princess must have sensed it as well, for her head snapped forward and she gazed across the crowd.

                Link leaned forward, trying to determine the source of his distress, and saw that under him, obscured to those in the street by barrels, was a cloaked man with a bow, and his arrow was pointed directly at Zelda.

                Diamo said, "Hey, look, Zelda's getting all fidgety alluva—"

                Link jumped off of the roof, landing on the cloaked man.  The two wrestled for a moment, amidst Diamo's cries of, "Link, what are you doing?!" and in the tussle the cloak was torn asunder to reveal that the man was actually a Gerudo woman.

                Link was taken aback for a moment, and the woman used that second to bolt from behind the barrels.  He charged after her, grabbing her across the waist and hurling them both to the ground.  The Gerudo recovered quickly, nimbly jumping to her feet only to be cut down by the tall woman, who had her sword drawn to intercept her.

                Zelda already had her bow drawn and strung and when Link croaked out a, "Behind you!" she turned and cleanly shot a charging Gerudo in the chest.  The guards were instantly at arms as three more Gerudo emerged from the crowd towards the front of the procession.  The tall woman and several others moved forward to intercept while Zelda urged her horse back a step, bow ready.  Her eyes darted back and forth across the crowd, but were distracted by the ruckus caused by the Gerudo.

                The sick feeling hadn't left Link and he clambered to his feet, making his way towards Zelda as he eyed the confused, noisy crowd.  He'd never been trained to fight and his only use for weaponry was to hunt small game, but nonetheless, he found himself sorely missing his little Kokiri bow and wishing desperately he'd brought it with him.  It was a little small for him (turning the ripe age of eighteen had done wonders for his height, not to mention shoe size) but it was a comfort and far better than bare hands.  He was starting to think that maybe this feeling in his gut was just adrenaline or excitement, but then he glanced over his shoulder to see the felled Gerudo he had initially jumped, only she was not so felled, and she had her bow strung and aimed at the princess.

                He knew, somehow, that Zelda didn't see it—she was looking somewhere else, or perhaps keeping an eye on the other Gerudo—and as the woman gave a shudder and released the arrow, he had no time to think.  He threw himself bodily in front of the arrow, and as the barbed tip pierced his chest, bringing with it a sharp, shooting pain, he was dimly aware of the sound of Zelda's bow as she shot the Gerudo in the head.


	3. Chapter 2

**The Legend of Zelda: The Love of the Triforce**

**Chapter 2**

            There was something white floating above Link's head.  He squinted, staring, and the ball of light plummeted downwards, halting at the tip of his nose.

                "Hey!"

                Link's eyes crossed as he stared at it, then refocused.  "Excuse me?"

                "Wissen!" the thing said, sprinkling light onto his tunic.

                Link reached towards it and heard an unfamiliar voice.

                "Boy?"

                Link opened his eyes, blinking against the sudden brightness that invaded them.  His hands fluttered to his chest, which was wrapped in some sort of course material.  Bandages.

                "Boy, can you speak?"  The tall woman stared down at him.  He could see now why she was so large.  She was Sheikan, and as her frame towered over him it left a shadow across his torso.  

                Link nodded stiffly.  "Yes," he whispered, finding his throat surprisingly dry.

                She noted his raspy voice and handed his a glass of water, which he quickly downed.  "Are you sound?" the Sheikan inquired.

                "Yes."

                "I am Impa, royal bodyguard of Her Highness."

                "Link," he managed.  

                "I owe you gratitude, and also, an apology.  That arrow should have been taken by me."  Impa extended her hand to him and he shook it, surprised at how strong her grip was.  "Her Highness wishes to speak to you.  Your inability to kneel is noted because of your condition."  She gave a fluid bow and walked into the next room.  

                Link squinted, lifting his head as best he could.  The princess?  Burning staves of pain ran up and down his chest and he coughed, wracking his upper body with soreness.  The effort was than he could muster and he let his head drop back to the pillow.  There was a soft _pfft_ as he sunk into the comforting warmth.

                "What is your name, boy?" a soft voice asked.

                Link rolled his eyes to the left and saw Zelda standing at the far side of the room, gazing out the window.  The armor was gone, replaced by royal robes, and her hair was down.  Her back was to him and he could see that the long, golden mane reached nearly to her knees.

                "Link," he said.

                "You will live, but the arrow went deep."  Zelda made a deliberate pause.  "What were you doing?"

                Link swallowed, feeling a stinging in his throat and wishing he had more water.  "I don't know, I wasn't thinking.  I just did it," he said.

                Zelda was silent for a moment.  Link heard the swishing of her gown as she turned away from the window, gazing at him intently.  She looked at his face and his ears as if she were memorizing them.  Her gaze traveled down to his hand lying atop the sheets.  "Where did you get that mark?"

                Link swallowed again.  The room felt as though it were constricting him.  He thought he could see some Stalffos slinking about in the shadows of the curtains.  He closed his eyes a little, noticing that the ache in his chest was beginning to lessen.  

                "The mark on your hand," Zelda pressed, her voice sharpening.

                "A birthmark," Link said.  He could feel his eyelids closing and, powerless to stop them, he sank into darkness.

*              *              *

                "Sahasralah was the only other one.  It was just Sahasralah and I," Zelda insisted.  It was the sharpest her voice had ever become and she was digging her fingernails into the edge of the oak table, not noticing the tiny grooves she was creating in the wooden surface.

Impa regarded her carefully from where she was sitting, legs propped up on the table, scabbard slung over the back of her chair.  "There are three parts to the Triforce, Princess," the Sheikah said quietly.

"I know that.  I know that."  Zelda's grip relaxed and she closed her eyes briefly, exhaling a small, royal sigh.  "It's just that this boy...  This boy's appearance is unexpected, both locally as well as physically.  You saw his ears.  He could very easily be a pure-blooded Hyllian.  And now we must train him..."

"There is no time."

Zelda nodded, absently slipping her fingers through one of her stray locks.  "I pray he is untainted.  Then we can send him forward to find Sahasralah.  Do you think he is still with the Deku Tree, Impa?"

Impa gave a single blink.  "The wise man was old, Princess," she said.

"As are you," Zelda retorted, straightening her shoulders.  The princess had always been touchy regarding the subject of her former mentor.  She rose from her seat.  "Tell me when he wakes," she said.  She didn't bother to wait for Impa's response, as she already knew what the reply would be.  "_Yes, Princess," and a slow, steady nod.  The Sheikah never changed.  Zelda stepped lightly across the marble floor of the hall, the back of her robe trailing a fashionable six inches._

She would have traded it for chain mail in a heartbeat.

But even if appearances weren't important to her, they were important to her people.  She had grown weary of arguing with her hand maiden years ago and had allowed herself to be presented as the princess everyone thought she was--elegant, quiet, proper and prim.  Little did they know she carried a poisoned dagger sheathed against her thigh.  Little did they know, indeed.  Few knew how close Gannon was to destroying their world, that he had the Triforce and had begun to experiment with its power, creating a world that was twisted in his own image—an ugly, festering, warped reality, that was becoming stronger and gradually replacing elements of this reality.  And of the few who knew of Gannon's meddling, even less were willing to face him.  Her appeals to the Gorons and the Zora had gone unheeded.  Letters to Darunia had been returned as carefully carved shale plates, the blunt Goronian script making empty promises and flowery apologies.  Letters to the Zora were returned more abruptly—short, brusque letters of decline in Ruto's elegant script on watery, magically contained parchment.  Eventually she stopped receiving even those.

Zelda let herself into the center garden.  The sun was beginning its descent and the sky was lit up with auras of pink and orange that stretched across the horizon like ribbons.  She enjoyed practicing with her mini-crossbow here (she called it "baby archery"), not requiring the length of field needed to practice with a long bow and liking the change of scenery.  She strapped the tiny crossbow to her forearm, selecting an arrow from the quiver that hung from a nearby post.  Her current target was located near one of the many pools that stretched out under the shade of an enormous willow tree.  In her youth she had come to this spot to play with the faeries that frequented the pond.

The faeries were dead now, the last one having died years ago.  She suspected--as did Impa--that Gannon's possession of the Triforce was to blame.  As he created his hell on earth, his Golden Land, the magic of this world was slowly being drained away.  The magic was being funneled into that monstrosity of the goddesses as the powers of the Triforce blindly sapped away the strength of this world, _her_ world, to birth that creation.  

The bastard child of the essence of the Triforce and a wicked heart.  The King of Thieves was stealing away the land and no appeal to the goddesses would be accepted.  The only way to stop the power of the Triforce was to capture its power as one's own and to secure it permanently.  A triumvirate of bearers was required for that.

Zelda held her arm up, almost carelessly, and fired the mini-arrow.  It didn't hit the target, but it came close.  She would practice with this particular target until she could hit it with her eyes closed and then she would move on to another.  For the moment, however, her thoughts were preoccupied with things other than archery.

Sahasralah the wise man had gone to the great Deku Tree for guidance and had never returned.  Could this boy be an incarnation of him?  Ah, the boy was too old to be that.  And surely Sahasralah, the greatest wielder of Naryu's magic, couldn't have fallen.  Maybe Sahasralah had sent the boy to her.  There _were three parts of the Triforce, after all.  It had been foolish of her to think that she and Sahasralah were the only ones._

Zelda ran her fingers over the triangular mark of her right hand.  The seal of Din.  She was the bearer of Din, and Sahasralah was the bearer of Naryu, and that boy... that boy was the bearer of Farore.

Zelda felt a flutter in her chest.  _The boy is awake...?_  She watched as several leaves gently fell to the ground from overhead, rustled from the trees by the evening wind.  

"Princess."  Impa's voice carried through the leafy glade.  "Princess, the boy is awake."

*              *              *

The situation was awkward, to say the least, and only Impa could appreciate the humor of these personalities clashing.  Link watched Zelda intently, listening carefully to every word, but the dislike was evident on his face.  Zelda, in turn, had been consistent in maintaining a demeaning air the entire lecture, pausing occasionally to give him an "I realize you are just an ignorant peasant" look.

Impa felt sorry for Link.  The Princess _could_ be arrogant and _was_ often over-bearing, and at the wise, all-knowing age of twenty, believed her teenage guest to be nothing more than a child.  But the boy, bless his heart, was simply ignorant.  He had no table manners (as his display of ravenous feasting upon awakening had proven), no knowledge of Hyllian legend, and no understanding of religion.  In addition, he was a very quiet boy and Zelda often mistook his reserve for stupidity.  Zelda would respond to his supposed ignorance with further arrogance, which would in turn cause him to become more withdrawn.

It was a vicious cycle, to say the least.  At this point Zelda was in full-force and Link was hardly speaking a word.

"I can't search for Sahasralah myself," Zelda was saying.  "None of the soldiers I've sent have returned from the forest."

"Let me guess," Link said suddenly, startling her.  "You want me to find him."

Zelda frowned at him.  "Of course.  You've an obligation."

"Obligation?"

"It means—"

"I know what it means!  How do I have an obligation?"

"You're the bearer of Farore.  And judging from your looks you've spent some time in the Lost Wood.  Right?"  He gave her a grudging nod.  "Then you'd stand the best chance.  As I've said before, I would go after him myself, but there are Hyllian matters to attend here.  I'll have to leave the castle in order to go on the pilgrimage for the Master Sword, but I can't go until I find a replacement to stand in my stead.  I suppose I have no choice but to send you."  

"You're assuming I'll accept."

Impa smiled a little at that, but Zelda's gaze narrowed.  "I could order you to go without compensation," the princess said, "or I could request you to go and pay you a considerable sum for your trouble.  You're obligated, don't you understand?  It's the will of the Triforce.  You were given that mark for a reason, you know, though the logic of your selection is beyond me."

Link simply nodded and began to trace patterns on the table with his forefinger.

"I have a guide that can lead you into the Lost Woods.  Since you lived with the Kokiri, you should be able to communicate with the faeries.  That is, assuming any of them are still alive."

"Faeries?" he asked carefully.

The look that came across Zelda's face was near horror.  "You don't know what faeries are?"

"No, it's just…"  Link bit his lower lip a little, in frustration, most likely, and tried not to glare at her.  "I know what a faerie is.  But I thought they were all extinct."

"Since they're forest protectors we believe there are some that remain alive deep in the Lost Wood.  There have been a handful of travelers who have confirmed it.  At any rate, the faeries play a role very similar to that of the Kokiri.  They alone know the location of the Deku Tree, now that the Kokiri are practically extinct.  We've found a reputable guide to lead you part way.  She will tell you anything else you need to know.  Rest well.  You will be leaving tomorrow."  The princess was picking up the hem of her gown and stepping lightly across the marble floor.  Impa rose to follow.

Link waited until they had reached the door.  "You're welcome," he called.

Zelda halted abruptly.  "Pardon?"

"You're welcome," Link said slowly, in a voice that sounded queerly like her own.  "Anything to serve Her Royal Majesty.  I am indebted to your kindness."

Zelda continued down the hallway without a word.  Impa fell in stride with her, noting that the princess' cheeks were burning.  "How dare that boy tease me," Zelda said, not bothering to keep her voice low.  "Goddesses help us, we're putting our faith in the hands of an uneducated heathen."

Impa repressed a small smile.


	4. Chapter 3

**The Legend of Zelda: The Love of the Triforce**

**Chapter 3**

The reputable guide turned out to be Crazy Tracy, an old woman who was, true to her name, quite insane.  She made it very clear that she had no interest in Link's mission whatsoever.  Mushrooms were her fancy, for she used them to make a horrible-smelling medicine that she called "Tracy's Life Elixir."  Link was convinced it was poison, as the smell alone made the tips of his ears turn green.  She was a small woman of an indeterminate species, her face too old and wrinkled to decipher.  Her ears had small points, but Link conceded that it might have been a result of her horrible elixir, which she partook of frequently.  Tracy was disagreeable, but in a different way than the princess, and he found himself obliged to ask her any question he thought of though she reprimanded him each time.

They reached the entrance to the Lost Woods after a few hours' travel, and in spite of her eccentricities, Traci proved to be an excellent guide.  She was certain of her way, though whether it was the right way had yet to be determined.

"Are you Kokiri?" Link asked, looking down at her, still wondering about her ears.

"Questions!  Why do you ask me so many questions, boy?" she asked, flapping a wrinkled, spindly hand at him.  The various tools and items hanging from her belt and pack jingled wildly with this sudden motion.  She grabbed at her brown, pod-shaped canteen and took a long drink, pausing only to cough.  Even in her old age, she still dressed like an explorer.  "I'm not a Kokiri, boy.  If I was then I never would've left this forest in the first place.  The outside world is no place for the children of the wood."

"Why does everyone call me boy?" Link demanded.

"Questions!" Tracy reminded him, giving him a solid rap on the knuckles with her walking stick.  "Stop distractin' yourself and pay attention to where we're going!  You wanna find your way back, don't you?"  She coughed thrice and wiped at her nose with the back of her weathered sleeve.  "The Kokiri might as well be extinct, boy.  I have seen only three Kokiri since the Triforce was stolen and one of those disappeared into Zora territory."

Link extended a hand to help the old woman over an especially gnarled root, but she brushed it aside with hardly a glance.  Tracy dug her fingernails into the rich green moss that grew alongside the edges of a tree as she clawed her way over it.  Link nimbly hopped across, pausing to look up at the canopy.  As they pushed further into the woods the atmosphere began to retain a dusky quality.  His gaze wandered across the thick patches of lichen that hung from the trees and along a trail of white toadstools that seemed to radiate a soft glow.

"Hey!  Come on, now!" Tracy said, motioning.  Link obediently followed her through the trees.  "No one has been here for years, boy, and look!"  Tracy tapped the edge of her walking stick at the edge of a cluster of damp mushrooms.  Beads of dew rolled off of their crème-colored domes and dribbled onto the dark moss that carpeted the floor.  "It is as if the children of the wood had never left.  Their magic remains in this forest.  But it is not enough and without their presence things will be changed.  There will be things in the forest that, otherwise, would not be allowed.  Do you understand?"

Link nodded, stepping carefully over an unusually twisted root.

"Soon we'll reach a creek.  Beyond that is the heart of the forest, where the village is.  I can't go any further than that.  Too old.  Too tired.  You'll find a faerie there, yeah?"

"How?"

"Questions!  What're you askin' me for?  You're the one that's supposed to be figuring all this out.  You're a full-blooded Hylian, boy—you've got the ears for it, at any rate—you should be able to sense the magic the faeries emanate."  Tracy lifted herself up onto a moss-covered stone with a soft grunt.  In the clearing before them, several shafts of light managed to penetrate the canopy.  The light was shed in a triangular fashion, illuminating the flowers and ivy that had begun to grow along the rocks there.  "Through that clearing, boy.  There's a large creek you'll have to cross, and then a small hill to climb.  In my younger days, maybe..."  Tracy shrugged.  "I can't help you any further.  You'll have to find a sign to the Deku tree.  Do you remember the way you came?"

Link nodded silently.

"Good, good.  Go, then.  I've got to get mushrooms.  If you find any big ones, bring them back to me."  Tracy waved him away with the edge of her staff and began to clump back through the woods, making a distinct clanking noise with each step.

Link faced the clearing.  A butterfly fluttered past his nose and he restrained himself from going after it.  This wasn't the sort of place to be goofing around.  He pushed his way through the leafy brush and towards the creek.  Though the forest had been mystifying before, with its winding passages amidst trunks and leafy foliage, the landscape was beginning to feel familiar.  A cool breeze blew across the rippling water of the creek and he easily found his way to the bridge, a rickety animal of rope and planks leading into the inky blackness of an enormous tree trunk.  Fireflies danced across the wind, their bright tails lighting up the shadowy forest like tiny stars.  He crossed carefully.  It wasn't until he had reached the other side that he realized the frail-looking bridge hadn't moved an inch under his weight.  It had stood as firm as if it were carved in marble.  He experimentally prodded the weathered board nearest him and, true to his suspicions, it stayed steady.

What sort of magic was still afoot here?

He made his way inside the large tree trunk, the shadowy darkness fading into the warmth of sunlight as he progressed.  He found the hill Crazy Tracy had spoken of and understood why she hadn't followed.  The hill was gnarled with winding roots and creeping vines and even he, an adept climber, had difficulty climbing without being ensnared in the mess.  

He reached the top and let out his breath in a slow hiss.  Before him stretched Kokiri village, and memories came flooding back.  The homey wood huts were still there, with tree houses on stilts that seemingly stretched to the canopy.  The stepping stones across the many springs, the plots of wildflowers, the sea of foliage that stretched to all sides of the forest.  All were there and untouched by time, the paint still seeming fresh as if someone had been living here just a day or two ago, hand-woven curtains still hanging in the windows as if stitched yesterday.  Vines from the deeper parts of the forest had begun to creep in, however, and the structures nearest the Lost Wood were swarmed in wreaths of ivy and slithering roots.  The fireflies were more numerous here, as he remembered, and they darted back and forth in front of his eyes, as if curious about their visitor.  He resisted the urge to swat them away because when he had lived with the Kokiri doing so was bad form and considered to be very rude.  Many of the Kokiri had believed that the fireflies were actually baby faeries.  Who was to say they weren't?

A cold wind rustled through the clearing, stirring the edge of his green jerkin, and Link shivered.  He couldn't remember it ever being cold in the Kokiri villiage.  Had the magic really died with them?  Surely not, for the bridge had an enchantment of some sort.  He sprinted across the grassy field and skipped across the stepping stones with ease.  Though navigation of the stones may have been a challenge to the tiny Kokiri, Link jumped the entire stream with little difficulty.  He found one of the many wooden signs and remembered the Kokirian hieroglyphics well enough to recognize the symbol for the Deku Tree, a large arrow pointing upward with a sprout of smaller lines jutting from the bottom (presumably a representation of the massive tree and its roots).  He climbed the woven vines lining the massive earth platform that lead to the heart of the Lost Wood.  As he was traveling the dark passage that lead into the Wood, he suddenly realized that, for the duration of the time he had been alone in the forest, he hadn't heard a sound.  Not birds or insects or animals.  Just the rustle of the wind in the trees.  He hadn't even heard the sounds of water running.  He walked forward in the clearing, resisting the urge to tiptoe, and was greeted to a three-way split in the path, each garnered by a hollowed tree trunk to his right, his left, and forward.

Link chewed on his lower lip, one hand resting on his hip and the other on the edge of his bow.  He'd barely been able to navigate the Lost Wood when he had lived here, much less years later.  He opted for the path to the right and wasn't terribly surprised when it lead to a clearing that looked exactly like the one he had left with three new paths before him.

There had been stories of people getting lost in the Wood and going mad, or of travelers eating mushrooms and turning into strange beasts.  The Kokiri had spent many a night huddled around the night fire, laughing and eating and telling stories, most of which were spine-tingling tales of the Lost Wood and its inhabitants.  He remembered one story very clearly—it had been about a boy who went to play in the Wood with his masks.  He became lost and eventually went mad, believing that he had become the creatures depicted on his masks.  Every Kokiri and his brother had a story about encountering the mysterious Skull Kid and how he would have gobbled them up as Kokiri stew if their wits hadn't saved them.

Link wondered if the Skull Kid was still here or if he had ever been.  He wasn't worried about a similar fate, however.  The Lost Wood might be tricky to navigate, but the Kokiri were never trapped in it because they knew the way out.  The trick of the Lost Wood was that the Wood was alive, and if you asked nicely, it would most certainly let you leave.

Did that work in reverse?

"I would like to find the Deku Tree now, please," he said aloud, politely, not unlike how he would have asked permission to leave the Wood years ago.  He was answered by a gentle rustling of the trees and silence.  Was his mind playing tricks on him or had the rustling come from the path in front of him?  He walked forward into the enormous tree trunk and emerged in a clearing full of leafy brush and a solitary tree.  The bush in front of him was shaking violently and he was certain it was the source of the rustling he had heard before.  He stepped towards it and the bush jumped up and screamed.  Link jumped back and yelped, one hand instinctively reaching into his quiver while the other edged towards his bow.  The two regarded each other.

The bush was a funny-looking yellow creature with a leafy top and rupee-red eyes.  It blinked slowly, then said, "You come in me forest!" in the most accusing voice a bush could muster.

"I-I'm looking for the Deku Tree," Link said, his heart still racing from the startle of a bush coming to life.  "I can't remember the way.  If you could tell me, I'd—"

The bush shook its head angrily and spit something at him.  Link ducked out of the way as a nut the size of his doubled fists whizzed by his head, cracking smartly into the tree trunk behind him and leaving a large dent.  Suddenly, the bush creature wasn't so funny-looking anymore.  Link drew his bow and had an arrow strung in an instant.  He hesitated from shooting the creature, but when it lobbed a series of nuts at him, he released the arrow with a _whoosh_.  The creature gave a shriek of pain and a voice sang into his ear, "Wook out!"

He ducked and another nut narrowly missed taking his head off at it flew by from the opposite direction.  The other bushes in the clearing were jumping up and shooting nuts at him, and though he was nimble, he couldn't duck them all.

"Hey!" the voice said excitedly, and a white blur zipped in front of his face.  He glanced up quickly to see where it was going and saw that the vines on the lone tree lead up to a swinging bridge.  He dove under the most recent volley of nuts and sprang up the tree.  He felt the whoosh of nuts flying by and one struck him in the leg, nearly knocking him from his hold on the vines.  He clambered up onto the bridge and out of range, a throbbing sensation spreading across his knee and calf like fire.  

The bushes were not happy.  They made a tremendous scene of howling and squeaking before they eventually settled down and forgot all about it.  Link sat heavily on the bridge (like the other one, it was firm under his weight) and caught his breath as he slipped the bow back over his shoulder.  The white blur zipped in front of his face.

"Thank you," Link said, crossing his eyes as it landed on his nose.  The white blur was a faerie, no doubt about that.  He felt the pull of magic, like warmth flowing from the tip of his nose to the points of his ears.  "I'm Link. Nice to meet you."  He stuck out his index finger, as was the customary greeting for little folk. 

"I'm Navi!" the faerie tittered, landing on the offered finger, and Link swore he felt a pair of tiny hands gripping him from somewhere inside that sparkling globe of light.  She bounced backwards across the air in two movements that could have been faerie backflips, then circled around his head before landing on the toe of his boot.  "You said you wanted to see the Great Deku Tree?"

Link nodded.

"That's good, because the Great Deku Tree wants to see you!"  The faerie bounced on his foot.  "But you're not a child of the wood…  You're not Kokiri.  I don't understand."  She flew upwards and landed on his nose again.  "I sense Farore in you."  The faerie hesitated.  "Wissen.  I'll take you to him, okay?"

Link rose quickly and followed Navi as she zigged down the swing bridge and zagged into the heart of the forest.  As he followed her through the maze of trees and brush, it all began to come back to him—the magic stone pillars, the hidden passageways, the underground ponds.  Old habits die hard and Link's old Kokiri habit of foraging was no exception.  He found himself scooping up anything that might be useful—a very straight stick that would make a fine arrow shaft, a sharp rock that could be shaped into an arrow head, fruit that might come in handy, a bit of vine that could be used to bind something, and a handful of mushrooms for Tracy.  He crawled into a hole where they passed a sparkling underground pond.  The pond's magical glow lit the cave, which would have otherwise been dark.  Not far from the pond was a cow, calmly grazing, and Link remembered it from his childhood.  He gave it an apple and scratched it behind the ears, then had to double his step to keep up with Navi, who had nearly lost him in the network of caves and holes.  Apparently faeries didn't socialize with cows.

When they emerged from the hole, the forest was as shady and as green as before, but Link felt the stirrings of recognition.  He jogged after Navi as she raced down a narrow tree trunk, and as the forest began to clear away, he saw the beginnings of massive roots.  The sense of magic was overwhelming, like a thick, warm blanket had been thrown over his senses, suffocating them.  He found himself touching the edge of his bow for reassurance as he ran lightly over the thick, sinewy roots.  Though most of the trees in the Lost Wood were large and intimidating, many of them large enough for several men to fit inside, they didn't hold a rupee to the Great Deku Tree.  In his youth, Link would have compared the girth of the massive tree to Lon Lon Ranch.  It didn't seem quite _that_ big to him now, but it was still a huge tree, at least as wide around as a good-sized house in Kakariko.

When he reached the front of the tree it was just as he had remembered it.  The lumbering tree stood tall and wide, and if you looked closely, you could make out an old, wise face seemingly etched into the bark.  The "eyebrows" raised and in a thick, deep voice the tree said, "Ah, there you are," the mouth moving as fluidly as if it were made of flesh.

"I found him in the forest, just as you said," Navi piped, flying circles around Link's head a few times before landing on his shoulder.  "Winky, a Hylian boy with a bow and the magic of Farore.  And polite, too."

"You've grown," the tree said, puffing out his leaves a bit.  "And you've kept the ways of the forest with you.  You may be Hylian, Link, but you were always a Kokiri at heart."

Link felt his face turn pink at the compliment.  "Sir, I was sent by Princess Zelda.  I'm looking for the wise man, Sahasralah."

"Hmmm?" the tree asked.  Being several centuries old, he tended to be hard of hearing.

"I'm looking for Sahasralah, sir," Link said.

"Old Sahasralah was here," the tree rumbled, and Navi huddled a little closer to Link's neck.  "But he was a fool in the way that only wise men can be.  He went seeking the forest pendant, but the whispers of the trees have told me that he did not make it."

Link's eyebrows furrowed.  "Why would he lie to the Princess?"

"Sahasralah was welcome among the Kokiri, much as you were."  The tree gave a great, shuddering sigh, and the whole forest seemed to sigh with it.  "I suspect that the wise man knew his time had come, the time when all things fade.  He always said that he wished to sleep with the forest as the Kokiri before him have."

"The great sleep," Navi whispered in Link's ear.  "The eternal dream.  That's where Sahasralah has gone."

The tree almost seemed to lean forward, as if it were about to reveal some secret.  "Sahasralah's magic still exists.  I can feel it, as can the other creatures of the forest.  Though his spirit has joined the children of the wood, the magic of Nayru is here, waiting.  Sahasralah was a scholar of Mudora.  He had a book…"  The tree's leaves rustled and one of the great roots shifted slightly, stirring the dirt.  "The key to the Master Sword lies in that book."

Link thought of having to tell Zelda that Sahasralah had lied to her.  Then he thought of what she might do to him if he returned without this important-sounding book.  "I'll get it, sir," he said.  "And the power of Nayru.  Tell me how."

"Hmmm?"

"I'll do it!"

The tree rumbled again, but this time it may have been mirth.  "You are Hylian.  The power to contend with Nayru is in your blood.  It will come naturally to you."  The tree closed its eyes, then smiled.  "You may need to take Navi."

"I'd like that," Link said sincerely, and Navi did a backflip on his shoulder.

"The location of the pendant is knowledge that has been lost with time, but Navi knows which direction Sahasralah headed and she understands the ways of the Lost Wood.  Use your instincts and, together, you should find his resting place."  The tree's features seemed to fade back into the wood, as if the life were leaking from it.  "Hmm.  Perhaps you will meet some of my little Koroks while you are there…"

"Koroks?" Link asked, but the face was still and unmoving now, as if etched in stone.

Navi flew in front of his nose.  "I remember that the wise man was headed towards the Forest Temple!" she said excitedly.  She took off into the brush and Link ran after her.  The faerie started off leisurely enough, but as they traveled deeper into the Wood her flying became more frenzied.  She barreled up the trunk of a tree and darted along, flying up, down, and around through a twisty maze of branches.  

"Navi!"  Link yelled, keeping up, but not without difficulty.

The faerie zipped back and landed on his nose, nearly startling him off of the stump he was climbing over.  "Wink, can you smell that?"  The tinkling voice wavered.

Link paused and looked around, taking in the air and voice of the forest.  Then it hit him.  "Moblins."

"In the old days, they would not be allowed," the faerie said.

"It's okay.  I can handle moblins."  Link said.  The forest was thinning, if only slightly, and he could see beginnings of stone and rock further in the shade of the trees.  No moblins in sight.  Not yet, anyway.  He crept forward until he reached a small clearing.  At the far end were stone steps, crumbling with age, that led to a marble temple that was nearly choked in vines and weeds.

"Forest Temple," Navi squeaked, and her light shook intensely for a moment—the faerie equivalent of a shiver, Link supposed.  He climbed the steps, fitting an arrow into his bow as he did so, and Navi flitted behind him.

The inside of the temple was musty, dark and, from the look of things, empty.  It was difficult to judge the size of the room because the shadows along the walls and back of the main chamber were black as pitch and unyielding to the naked eye.  Link coughed and the noise echoed through the massive main room.  Navi circled his head nervously.  Nothing happened.

"It's okay," Link whispered.  "I think it's deserted."  He took a confident step forward.  "See?"  He took another, and the tile he was standing on sunk into the ground with a loud rumble.

The door to the temple entrance came crashing down, causing a layer of dust to rise up.  

"That wasn't here before!" Navi said, flying around him in reckless circles.  "Moblin booby-trap!"

As if cued, several loud snorts echoed throughout the chamber, followed by grunts and shuffling.  The darkness parted as several moblins clomped from the shadows, spittle dripping from their massive pig jowls.  These were followed by more moblins, who were in turn followed by more.  One of the pig beasts hefted his spear, upon which a polished animal skull rested.  He gave a loud snort and the other moblins fell silent.  Clearly, this creature was the leader.  Link's grip on his bow had turned white-knuckled.  Navi had long since taken refuge behind his right ear.  Link put his weight on his back foot and took careful aim, centering his arrow on the leader's massive throat.

The leader moblin sniffed the air once, twice, and gave a throaty laugh.  "I hungry," the creature rumbled, and Link tensed.  Its voice was guttural, making the words somewhat difficult to decipher, but the hungry look in its eye was easily understood.  The moblin leader smacked noisily, running its thick, slimy tongue over its large lips, and said, "I hungry, and you…  You fresh elf."

This brought a chorus of grunts and oinks from the assembled moblins, many of whom began to push forward.

                 "Winky!" Navi hissed.  "What do we do?"

                 A trickle of sweat ran down the side of Link's face and his brow furrowed as his gaze narrowed down the shaft of the arrow.  "When in doubt…" he whispered back, pulling the arrow slightly more taunt.

                 "What?  What?" Navi asked nervously, peering around his ear.

                 "…Shoot the leader," Link said, and he released the arrow.

*               *               *

                 "Your Highness?"  An unfamiliar voice passed through the heavy wooden door to the Princess' study, and she resisted the urge to throw a book at the door.  

                 "I asked not to be disturbed," she called back, not bothering to look up from the parchment in front of her.  There were taxes to collect, soldiers to train and foreign relations to balance.  She had a kingdom to run, for Nayru's sake.  Couldn't they give her a moment's peace?

                 The door opened anyway, and a young soldier poked his head into the room.  "Your Highness, there's a village girl demanding to see you.  A girl and a boy, actually.  They won't leave, and—"

                 "I'm very busy, soldier."

                 The soldier ventured further into the room.  "Yes, but milady, it's Talon's daughter."

                 Zelda's mind immediately went into business mode.  Had she requested more mounts to be trained?  Had they paid Talon for the last group of horses?  Was there some sort of outstanding negotiation she'd forgotten about?  Wasn't _Impa_ supposed to take care of military matters?  She looked up at him, frowning, and he took a tentative step back.  "Where is she?"

                 "Er, they're outside the gates, milady, and they're causing quite a—"

                 "Escort them to the audience room."

                 "Yes, your Highness."  The soldier scuttled out, leaving the door open as he did.

                 Zelda made a few more notes on the parchment and let out a long sigh.  A moment's peace.  Was it really too much to ask for?

*               *               *

                 Link reflected that Navi's high-pitched squeal as she shot down the corridor might have been funny if they weren't being chased by a horde of moblins.  Thankfully, he ran faster than the pig beasts (barely) and in the chaos that ensued after the fall of their leader (which had been quick, thanks to his steady aim) both he and Navi had managed to get a head start.  Unfortunately, being outnumbered wasn't their only disadvantage.  The moblins also knew the layout of the Temple, as well as the locations of booby traps and pitfalls.  Navi tried her best, between squeals and shrieks, to give him directions, but oftentimes his nimble grace was the only thing that kept him from getting smashed with rocks or, in a more recent incident, run-through with spikes.  He'd managed to avoid the spikes, mostly, but he had still received a deep gash in the arm for being a smidge too slow.

                 Considering that the moblins weren't picking their teeth with his bones yet, he felt he could hardly complain.

                 Navi took a sharp right, careening off the wall in the process, and he followed her, jumping over a pile of stone rubble that littered the floor.

                 "Navi, where are we?" he yelled over the din.

                 "Almost to the main chamber!  Almost!"  The faerie took another sharp turn, leading him into a large chamber not unlike the first one.  "Hit the switch!  Hit the switch!"

                 Link spun on his heels and slammed his palm into the wall switch, causing a massive stone door to swing down over the entrance.  Moments later a loud thud sounded on the other side, followed by several others and an accompaniment of muffled snorts.

                 "I bet you twenty rupees they ran into it," Link muttered, rubbing his arm.  

                 "Wook!" Navi called, and Link turned his attention to their surroundings.  There was a large pedestal in the center of the chamber that was home to a large spire that was several feet in diameter.  At first he thought the spire was made of crystal, but when he touched it with his index finger the surface was freezing.

                 "Ice?"

                 "Unnatural magic," Navi said, circling.  "Not forest magic."

                 Link squinted, peering into the spire.  "There's something in there."

                 "Wink…"

                 He walked around the spire to where Navi was hovering.  The hand of a skeleton stood out from the back of the spire, partially extended, the fingers splayed as if they were reaching for something.  On the floor nearby lay a tattered, dusty tome.

                 "Sahasralah," Navi said sadly.

                 "Who could have done this?" Link asked.

                 "A very powerful magician.  The spell is still strong."  Navi flitted around the crystal spire.  "The pendant is not here.  Maybe the moblins took it…"

                 Link felt a sudden compulsion to touch the bony hand and, before he could stop himself, did.  As his fingers closed around the skeletal palm he felt a voice in his head.

                 _…Farore…_

                 Pain spread across his hand like fire, blossoming hotly on the back of his hand, and he recoiled, jerking away so quickly that he fell.

                 "Wink!"

                 Darkness was closing in on him and he struggled, even as it swallowed him up.

                 _…Farore…_

_                 …Nayru…_

_                 …It is so good to find you… sister…_

                 _…Perhaps the burden is too great… but we must…_

                 Link awoke to a chaotic orchestra of sound.  Navi was screaming into his ear while the Temple shook with thunderous rumblings. 

                 "Wink!  Wake up!"

                 He sat up, groggily, and rubbed the back of his hand.  He glanced down to check for damage and did a double take.  His birthmark was no longer alone—he now had two triangular marks on his hand.  He touched his forehead.  The grogginess was quickly leaving him and he stood easily, brushing off his tunic as he did so. 

                 The Temple shook again, causing dirt and debris to fall into the chamber.

                 "Moblins are so stupid!" Navi fumed.  "They're going to make the ceiling collapse!"  This statement was punctuated by more falling rubble and more noise.  "Hurry!  Grab the book!"

                 He'd almost forgotten.  Hastily, he grabbed the tome and tucked it under his arm, following Navi to the back of the chamber.  There was a winding, forgotten passage there and they traversed it as quickly as possible.  Link felt a burst of relief when he could finally see light at the end, but his relief turned to dismay when he found that the tunnel led to a narrow outcropping high on the edge of a cliff that was surrounded by water as far as the eye could see.

                 "It's a dead end!" he called to Navi, who had doubled back to check on the moblins' progress.  She flitted back to him in an instant.

                 "They bwoke the door!"

                 Link glanced back, then slung the bow over his shoulder.  If he had to choose between certain death with the moblins and uncertain death with the ocean, he'd pick the ocean.  "Navi, go to Hyrule and find Zelda.  Tell her what happened."  The faerie sniffled, then hiccupped.  Link gave her a gentle smile.  "Hey, cheer up.  I'm a great swimmer."  And with that, he jumped.

                 At first there was nothing but the wind rushing past him and the ocean becoming larger with each passing second.  Gradually, he became aware of hollow, wooden clicking sounds all around him, and suddenly he felt tiny hands gripping his arms and legs.

                 "So big!"

                 "Heavy!"

                 "Much too tall for a Kokiri!"

                 Link looked over his shoulder to see several leaves clinging to him.  The leaf nearest his face smiled at him and he openly gaped.

                 "We'll slow you down, but you're like a big rock!  Get ready to make a big splash!"

                 Link opened his mouth to respond, but the ocean interrupted him, filling his mouth with salt water and soaking him instantly to the bone.  He struggled against the tide and the weight of the things he carried, and fought until the white-crested waves overcame his senses.

*               *               *

                 When Zelda entered the audience room, she recognized the boy by sight—he was Link's friend.  She'd seen them together just before the ambush.  Malon, however, she knew only by word of mouth.  The redhead sat petulantly, arms crossed, her face screwed into a scowl.  She was a big girl with the sort of sturdy build that came from years of farm work and manual labor.  The boy looked positively slight in comparison, though she knew that Malon's build would have been more evenly matched with Link's if he had been here.

                 Zelda nodded to them and overlooked the fact that neither had kneeled.  It had been a long week, after all.

                 "Where's Link?" Malon demanded, and the soldiers at the door tensed.  Both made eye contact with Zelda, which she acknowledged with a slight inclination of her head.  

                 "Malon of Lon Lon, I presume.  I am not in a good mood, and I have granted you audience purely out of the kindness of my heart.  Do not test me."

                 Malon sucked in a breath and the boy put a hand on her shoulder.  "Your Highness, it's an honor to meet you.  My name is Diamo."  He gave a half bow.  "We're friends of Link's, as you know, and we're worried about him.  We were hoping to inquire his whereabouts and, uh, possibly when he'll return?"  He gave her an imploring look.

                 There was no reason to be impolite.  They were just concerned friends.  "Your friend has undertaken a job for the state," Zelda said.  "I am not sure when he will return, though I expect it will be within a matter of days."  She motioned for them to sit and they did so.

                 "What kind of job?" Malon asked, her voice laced with suspicion.  

                 She seemed to genuinely care; Zelda acquiesced.  "To find the whereabouts of one of my advisors."

"Don't you have royal errand boys for that sort of thing?"

                 "Regrettably, none of them are familiar with the Lost Woods."

                 Diamo's eyebrows shot up.  "Whoa, wait a second.  Lost Woods?  What would you need in the Lost Woods?"  Zelda shook her head.  She'd already said too much.

                 "You sent him to the Lost Woods _alone_?"  Malon stood up so quickly she knocked back her chair.

                 "Malon, take it easy," Diamo said.  "Link's a big boy."

                 Malon frowned at the Princess and uttered something else, no doubt unflattering, but Zelda could not hear it.  A great wave had washed over her, clouding her senses, and she fell.  She was drowning and the water was cold and fast, stealing away her breath and rhythmically pounding at her from all sides.

                 A voice called out to her mind: _Zelda!_

                 Her knee hit the stone floor and a painful tremor ran up her thigh, but she hardly noticed it.  "Link?" she whispered, catching her breath.  Immediately the soldiers were at her side to help her stand and she let them.

                 "The Princess is busy," one of the soldiers said, moving in front of her defensively.  "I'll have to ask you to leave."

                 Malon was livid.  "No, I want to finish this conversation.  She can't just—"

                 "If you don't leave now, peacefully, I'll have you thrown in prison!"

                 Zelda ignored the clamor around her as she tried to think.  She had sensed two presences in the ether when the mental voice interrupted her thoughts.  Link's, naturally, but there had been another… fainter, in some ways, but still strong in the essence of the Triforce.

                 "Sahasralah," she murmured, "where are you?"

                 "Your Highness, shall I call a doctor?" the soldier peered at her worriedly, an edge of concern lining his brow.  He was still holding her, cradling her between his armored chest and his gloved hands as if she might collapse at any moment.

                 "No," she told him.  A sudden wave of irritability washed over her and she shoved him away.  The soldier regarded her impassively—her temper was known and her mood swings common.  He did not bother to call after her as she stormed past him, slamming the door to the audience chamber in her wake.

                 It was widely recognized that the Princess of Hyrule could take care of herself.


End file.
